


Shiver

by kalewrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A little angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Hydra are dickbags, Sexual Tension, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve gets a boner, Steve is a gentleman, Threats of Violence, Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony is also an asshole, steve is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:17:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9651533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalewrites/pseuds/kalewrites
Summary: You and Steve are on a mission together, stuck out in the middle of Russia in the freezing cold, waiting on your pickup. Forever the gentleman, Steve keeps you warm. At least, he’s trying to be a gentleman anyway.





	

A shiver wracks through your body again, cold seeping further into you, into every cell until your mind is blank with it. Your muscles are stiff and losing feeling as you huddle in the empty building, out of sight and out of the cold. That was the plan, anyway.

Fucking Russia.

You glance at Steve, see him tucked sort of into himself, his hulking limbs wrapping around him like a sturdy muscle blanket. Your eyes skim along the hard lines and settle on the set of his jaw, you let the thoughts that come along with it warm you a little, use them like a blanket against the ice slipping up your spine and the dark edges of your mind. 

“How much longer, Steve?” You ask again, again because you’d asked before but hadn't really listened, hearing nothing past the deep throb of cold in your eardrums. 

“Quinjet will be back in a couple hours. Y/N.” He repeats, gives you a look like maybe he’s getting worried about you, then shuffles closer, hesitates for a beat then slips an arm around you. The warmth, the niceness of it feels like heaven and you lean into him, pulled towards the heat of him. “It wasn't your fault, you know?” He says, low but solid, surety in his voice. 

“Sure feels like it.” You whisper back, sucking in your bottom lip and chewing on it so he can’t see the quiver in it. 

“You tried. We tried. It came down to you or him.” His arm tightens a little around you, “I’m glad you chose you. If you hadn’t… I- I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetheart.” 

You glance towards him, watching his throat work as he swallows, getting a little distracted in wondering how a neck can be so sturdy. You tilt your head and rest your cheek against his chest, forehead touching his neck, “Thanks, Stevie.” 

“God, Y/N, you're freezing. Hey- get in here.” He slides your body along the concrete like you weigh nothing, hooks under your knees and lifts you, settles you in front of him right between his legs. He opens the front of his jacket and slips the sides round you so you're both snug inside, his thighs tight against the sides of yours, his arms crossed over your stomach and over your wrists. The heat spreads through you, every single part of you that’s touching Steve feels like its scorched, tight and hot from more than just body heat. 

“This okay?” His voice in your ear makes you jump and muscles tense, his fingers gripping a little tighter on your wrists, only loosening when you force yourself to relax against him again. 

“Yeah, uh, yes. More than.” Did you sound as shaken as you feel? Probably. Did he? Maybe. 

The mission had gone well, at first, you and Steve tasked with retrieving plans held on a poorly guarded Hydra mainframe in Kazan, Russia. It hadn't taken a whole lot of effort to take out the two guards in the building, and Tony had given you a neat little flash drive that did all the hard work for you, all you had to do was plug it in. Get in, get out, 30 mins tops. You just hadn't counted on...him. No older than his teen years, manipulated into a dark seated loyalty by Hydra, a new low for them really. Child soldiers. It’s what you saw, in any case. You hadn’t wanted to do it, take him out, you desperately tried not to. Steve had tried to reason with him, explaining the lies Hydra had told him, pleaded with him to lower his weapon but in the end it hadn't been enough. You saw it, the second he made his decision, saw the resignation, saw his face go slack and his eyes turn dead as he tightened his finger on the trigger. You felt the pain of his life taken before your bullet even hit him, time slowing till it was almost laughing at you, extending out the moments like a lifetime and taunting you. 

10 minutes. That’s all it took, between meeting and killing the boy. 10 whole minutes. 

The mission had been budgeted for a few hours and your pick up wasn't due for a while. Since Steve was so well known, Mr Captain America, there’s no way you could chance being spotted, not since tensions between the US and Russia were already at their peak since, well, forever really but most recent since the Siberia. Yeah, that was a shit storm that no one wanted to touch, never mind have in their back garden. So here you were, skulking in some abandoned building which reeked of death and horror like a slaughterhouse, the large open space doing nothing to quell the harsh temperatures of mid-winter Russia and the boys face playing in a loop in your head. The only thing that kept you from drowning in that image was sheer proximity to Steve. 

The hard concrete floor is unforgiving, you shift a little to get more comfortable but also to keep as much of your weight off Steve as possible, trying to resist the urge to brush your ass back just a little and answer that too-ever-present question in your mind about the Serum and if it affected everythings size. You take in a couple of deep breaths, attempt to drag your mind from the gutter which is entirely unlikely given the object of your most recent ‘self-love’ episodes was pressed against you. Glancing down makes it worse- thighsthighsthighs- but at least you're no longer in danger of hypothermia… right? Steve shifts behind you, the muscles in his legs tensing against yours and sending heat straight to your gut. A yawn sneaks out, prompted by the long flight here and the emotionally beating you’d been through.

“Tired? You can sleep if you want, I’ll wake you up when we can leave.” 

“S’ok Ste-” You fight the yawn this time, but he knows anyway, hand coming up to press against your forehead till your head has rolled back against him. 

“Sleep, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe.” His voice sounds further away as your eyes close, the soft scent of Steve lulling you into a light sleep, his body pulling you tighter, heat wrapping like a blanket over you. 

You hover in and out of consciousness, not quite awake and not quite asleep. Aware of the ache of sitting on the floor, shifting occasionally to ease it, mostly followed by another shifting of Steve. You vaguely wonder if you are too heavy, half flickering between that and sleep induced thoughts of arms and thighs and everything inbetween. Before you can get lost there, get too settled in those thoughts you force yourself up, blink yourself awake and straight up to stretch out those stiff muscles again. Steve releases his grip on your wrists to give you movement to do so, and you roll your back a little to relieve the ache.

That’s when it happens, the shock of it sending you both scrambling to your feet. As you arched your back to stretch, your ass brushed against Steve, against him, full, solid, hard. He’s just as affected as you to the close proximity and the thought alone thrills you as much as it terrfies you. 

“I’m sorry!” You both rush out, looking everywhere but at each other. His face snaps to yours, tight with confusion, “Wait, why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to rub against you, shit. Was an accident.” You rub at your face and eyes, the last remnants of sleep shoved from your body as the adrenaline lights up your veins. 

“No, I’m sorry. I just- uh, god, Y/N. You kept moving around in your sleep and I just…” You hear the desperation in his voice as he searches for a way to explain this, most guys would have laughed it off by now but not Steve, ever the gentleman, he needs to explain. He needs a reason. 

“Hey, Steve, Steve it’s ok. No big deal.” You take a few steps, close the gap but not quite, “These things happen, yeah?”

“No, Y/N. It’s just that- fuck, how do I even...” He runs a hand over his face, dragging his skin a little, looking so lost. 

You tut at him, shaking your head and fighting the smile on your face, “Steven, did you just cuss?”

He looks at you now, see’s the smile on your face and his shoulders loosen a little, a tentative smile working at his lips, eyes brimming with unsaid words. He reaches for you, steps up close so that your chests touch with each breath, slips his hand round your waist to the small of your back. Each action is slow, deliberate and laced with intent. 

“Alright, Captain Ice Age, your chariot has arrived.” The static of the comms radio jolts you both, Tony’s voice like a bucket of ice on the situation and prompts Steve to take a step back away from you. 

“On our way, Tony.” He replies, looks at you sort of haunted and hungry, like he’s not sure which is worse, lingers there a minute before blinking back into Captain America mode. Passive face, professional attitude, you see it all snap into place as he nods towards the door, making sure you leave first. You sigh but do as he says, following orders like the good little soldier. 

You can hear the engines from the jet, but can’t see it anywhere. What is Tony doing?

“You need to uncloak, Spare Parts Man.” 

“Ohhh, somebody's in a bad mood. What’s wrong, Y/N?” The jet flickers into view. “Did I interrupt? R-Rated handholding and cheek pecking?”

“Fuck off, Stark.” You say as you climb inside, followed by Steve who undoubtedly hears the whole exchange in his ear piece but says nothing. 

The journey home is long but comfortable, a damn sight more comfortable than the building you’d just been stranded in. Steve sits up front with Tony, fills him in on the mission and takes over so Tony can start decrypting the data you had obtained. It keeps him busy, getting lost in his work is Tony’s trademark so you don’t see much of either of them for the duration. The quiet hum of the engine fills your head, leaving you with nothing to focus on but your own thoughts and today’s events. The boy's face flickers in and out, hovering with dark edges and void eyes. You shake the thought, try to focus on something else to drown him out, notice Steve’s silhouette against the front screen, shoulder hunched and fingers tight on the controls. 

Steve. Focus on Steve. 

Was he really going to kiss you? Certainly seemed like he was, unless you're reading too much into it but really, he leaned. Your fingertips vibrate with the need to trace his lines, all his lines of muscle and full, firmness. You’d always had a thing for him, sure, but had never given much thought to him reciprocating. Now, though, now you're thinking and it's a nice train of thought. Now the real question of the hour, what do you do? Nothing, you suppose, let him decide if he wants to continue the quiet almost moment you shared, pretend you're not avoiding out-and-out rejection. 

“Okay guys, preparing to land.” Steve’s voice cuts through your musing. You make your way to your seat and buckle in, giving him a thumbs up to let him know you're ready. Tony does the same, sliding in next to you instead of joining Steve in the cab up front. 

“Doing okay, kid?” He asks, halting you when you realise what he means.

“Yeah, Tony. I’m ok.” You offer him a small smile which he returns, the moment remaining untarnished by your equal measures of sarcasm and sass. Tony was a kindred spirit, meeting you toe to toe in snark and love. He was a true friend. 

“Enjoy your alone time with Stone Cold Steve Rogers?” And there it was, moment gone, Tony back. He loved to give you a hard time for that crush of yours. 

“I hate you.” You say but laugh anyway, because it’s Tony and he always knows how to do that.

“Except you don’t.” He smirks at you, jostling a little as Steve finally puts the jet down. 

You're both up and out as soon as it lands, you give him a punch to the shoulder on your way out and hear him cracking up behind you. Steve appears at the door, arm stretching out to help you down and your heart responds with an extra thumpthump. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

He leans towards you a little, a smile working its way on to his face, “You know, you’ve been pretty thankful today. That’s 3 I count.” 

Was he...was he flirting?

“What’s not to be thankful for, when a handsome man keeps you warm in the cold?” You arch an eyebrow, a silent dare to take the bait. 

“Handsome, huh?” Bait taken. 

“Definitely.” This time, your smiles mirror the other but with layers of intent and want. Tony catches your eye as he walks around, giving you an exaggerated thumbs up over Steve's shoulder. You roll your eyes and flip him off, Steve turns to see who you're aiming at and catches Tony blowing you a kiss. He turns back to you, eyebrows raised in question, you murmur a “Don’t ask.” 

“I need to do the mission report, but can I come see you later?” Steve says, taking a few steps backwards but never breaking eye contact.

“Doors always open.” Like you could say no to him? He gives you a smile, the kind that makes your knee joints wobble and rushes away to do whatever it is a Captain does. You make it back to your room, showering quickly and changing into some lounge pants and a tank, the blue one that shows off a little cleavage that definitely wasn't deliberate. You tidy up a little, vacuum the lounge, straighten the bed because you never know and throw out the chinese take-out cartons that have been there for...a while. It’s been maybe an hour when there’s a knock at the front door. You make you way over to open the door, heart vibrating in your chest with how fast it’s beating, the dip your stomach takes ties you in knots. 

The door opens to reveal Steve, as you suspected, changed out of his uniform to loose sweats and a white t-shirt. You roll your bottom lip absentmindedly as you take in the dips of his abs visible through the tight material, your blood hums in anticipation. When you finally meet his eyes you see the way he lingers on your neck and lower, see his pupils expand until his eyes are darker than you've ever seen. He steps forward, into your room, moving you back with him automatically and closing the door softly behind him,

“Thought we might continue where we left off earlier?” He murmurs low, closing the distance between you but not touching.

“Would be rude not to.” You reply, releasing him from his invisible binds he reaches for you, hands slipping around your waist again, so natural and easy like you were built for this. 

You slip your hands up his chest, a slow path over the muscles you’ve been so desperate to feel and finally hook around his neck. His lips hover just out of reach, his breath mingling with yours and your heartbeat finally making it to your ears, drowning out everything but it and the sound of Steve's labored breaths. He tips forward and closes the distance, a soft brush of skin against yours before pressing more firmly, more deliberately with a feeling that reaches right down to your toes and back. You moan, quiet and low, and Steve uses it to deepen the kiss, mouth working against yours till your breathless and yet so full of him. It’s deep and thorough, and layered with feeling. You grip his neck tighter, needing him closer still and good God this man can kiss. His fingers inch under your tank, fingertips whispering gentling on the soft skin with goosebumps chasing them. A shiver wracks your body, this time it's a welcome one. 

“Wait, wait- this isn’t…” His chest heaves with each breath, forehead pressed against yours and his words create a little panic in your heart.

“We don’t have to-” You whisper, mistaking it for nerves or something worse.

“No. No, it’s not that. Believe me it’s not that.” His look is like gasoline on the very open flame of your body and it slides down from head to toe. He looks wrecked. 

“Then what?”

“I want to take you out. On a date.” He says, linking his fingers with yours and bringing them up to kiss your knuckles, his bottom lip catching on the them in the sexiest way. “You deserve to be wooed.” 

A smile fights loose on your face, Steve Rogers, always the gentleman. An absolute sweetheart and seriously, how did you deserve this man? 

“Okay, Steve. I think I’d like that.”


End file.
